Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Estonia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Franke to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Lalann,
the Human League,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bush Tetras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
LL Cool J,
Deakin,
Amon Düül,
Talk Talk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Patti Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
The Count Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blackbyrds,
Oblivians,
Sight & Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deepchord,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barry Ungar,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gabor Szabo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Sparks,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Das Ding,
Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Johnny Clarke,
Mr. Review,
Erykah Badu,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rites of Spring,
The Wake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.